Quiet Please... is justly, emotionally, and informatively presented for friends, acquaintances, strangers, and ignorant employers who don't believe misophonia is a "legit" disability.
Furthermore, it's a beautiful example of a tool made to assist those who really do care and want to help those who suffer around them.
Full disclaimer: I'm a sufferer of this nasty condition. I have had to address an employer for refusing to acknowledge it as an "actual" disability. I've also had to address that moving a sufferer's work area adjacent to ping pong tables as punishment was adding fuel to its fire.
So I review the film as a victim of the condition.
That said, I can freely testify that the stories told therein are excellent examples of the hell suffered by many, some who have no idea that there is even a name for the disorder.
Sound ludicrous? Psychology Today says, "While relatively rare, up to 20% of the population may have some degree of misophonia."
During the Covid-19 lockdown, we hear a lot of people complain of misophonia.
Very likely to affect more people during home-arrest, the illness can strip innocent people of their jobs, friends, and lovers when magnified to the extent that leads to "unjustified" erratic and dangerous behavior.
The promo materials for Quiet Please... define misophonia as "a neurological disorder [in which] specific sounds trigger adverse physiological and emotional reactions: adrenaline rush, rapid heart rate, and sometimes rage."
In other words, it can make someone feel the need to cut a bitch! (For the PC Police out there, a "bitch" can be male or female and is not necessarily descriptive of any specific physical, mental, or behavioral attributes present in or around said "bitch.")
Filmmaker Jeffrey Scott Gould uses his platform to share stories of misophonia sufferers and their loved ones -- people tormented to an extreme.
One family interviewed is made up of a mother and three children who all suffer, and a husband/father who does not.
That's got to be rough for that poor man, not to mention the sufferers, but at least they are all aware and respectful of each other's triggers.
We meet Kimmie, a race-car driver who espouses the everyday hell of everyday sounds through a loud engine and solitude behind the wheel.
We meet musician and songwriter Paul, who wrote and recorded the catchy "Misophone" (also the Quiet Please... theme song) about the disorder.
We meet artist, Jessica, who also incorporates her suffering into her art.
We meet around 30 to 35 sufferers (from the condition, not including those around them who suffer as a result).
What is so fascinating about misophonia is how many of us turn to art as a coping mechanism.
It's enough to make one wonder if some of us become artistic as a direct result of the innate condition within that forces us to isolate.
Gould has created a film -- the first of its kind -- that is sure to become a sort of text-book for the misophonia disorder.
Funny story: In a comment thread for the film in a Facebook support group for misophonia sufferers, one user expressed criticism of the "wet sound" from some of the dialogue audio.
Having watched the film myself, I don't notice it, but it just goes to show that any sound can be a trigger, even from a film made by misophonia sufferers and for misophonia sufferers and their loved ones.
One thing I would have liked to see more of in the film is additional scientific and medical explanations of the disorder, to push through to the nonbelievers the evidence of misophonia as a neurological disorder.
But that would be at the expense of some of the essential stories.
There is still a chunk of scientific examination later in the film, and the science is Googleable.
Some of us just want to see as much scientific discovery as we can, because we want a cure.
But hearing of the trauma the subjects and their loved ones share in the film is more potent.
As Quiet Please... demonstrates, misophonia sufferers lose jobs, they have to create businesses for themselves, they have to isolate to be productive, much to the chagrin of moronic employers and managers who might attempt to punish isolationism as a performance concern.
After Coronatine, things are going to change forever.
Maybe one benefit will be that more employees will be permitted to work remotely more often. But if you're going to stay home, for the love of God, keep the noise down for your neighbors! You aren't the only ones who live in this world!
Quiet Please... is a thoughtful and vital film and another example of how the torment may lead to artful consequences.
Quiet Please... is now streaming on Amazon Prime and available for rent or purchase on Amazon, as well.
If you or anyone you know suffers from symptoms described hereinabove, watch the film, do some research and seek whatever help is available.
Treatment is still new, but it will be fascinating and beneficial to so many to watch it grow.
Kerr Lordygan is a staff writer for TV Fanatic. Follow him on Twitter.